


candlelights

by littlescallion



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, bad language, don't trust my tags, implied prostitution, it's only mature because of the theme and language, it's tagged as angst but it's not sad, no smut sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8603785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlescallion/pseuds/littlescallion
Summary: "and here i am—making vain efforts in the dark; wanting to fly towards the light but my wings failed me"to jaebum, jinyoung is a small lit candle—flickering gracefully in the darkbut when it burns down, it takes everything along





	

**Author's Note:**

> basically an interpretation slash retelling of a very popular music video by a very popular boy group. the mv backstory is not similar with this fic, but like 80% of the fic is inspired by that music video  
> (as usual, i'm bad at summarizing. writing too. whoops. i hope you still enjoy this nonetheless)

Jaebum closed his eyes tightly as his back made contact with the wall.

He could feel warm blood trickling down his face and he pictured a huge gash on his forehead – from when he was slammed harshly against the edge of a metal trashcan. He should’ve seen it coming – seeking problems with a group of thugs is bad enough, and seeking problems with a group of drunk thugs twice his size was basically a death sentence, especially because he was alone.

But Jaebum didn’t mind the scars and bruises. He would do it all over again if he had to.

The slurred drunken words played over and over in his mind and the pain from his wounds evaporated into thin air. Those words hurt his ears and any leftover feeling of overwhelming loss resurfaced at once, giving him the strength to swing another punch even when his entire face was already covered with blood.

_Skank._

_Whore._

_Dead whore._

They were saying those words as if it meant nothing – as if _she_ meant nothing. Jaebum would trade his soul to the demon twice for this woman’s happiness, but they were degrading her, calling her names. So he didn’t feel any hint of regret fighting the men to death just to defend her.

To him, she meant the world.

His eyes were swollen, leaving him with blurry sight, and there was a persistent ringing in his ears, masking the sound of a police siren blaring somewhere. The men seemed to hear it, too, as they hurriedly drop him to the ground. He heard them yelling at each other to just ‘leave that rat’ ‘he’ll die soon anyway’ ‘no need to stick around and get involved.’

Jaebum thought they might be right.

He would meet his end in an alley – left alone, broken and battered, just like how a rat should end up. He had nothing more to fight for anyway, so might as well accept his fate and leave peacefully.

He hadn’t been lying on the ground for long when he began to see an angel emerging from the dark.

Jaebum often wondered what death would feel like and he imagined a grand reception – his soul would slip away, leaving a lifeless body and he would ascend on a beautiful staircase, guided by singing angels as he reached glorious eternity. Or sometimes he imagined his loved ones, everyone who had left him long ago, calling out for him from the distance and waving at him, beckoning him to join them. And he would cross the bridge; not noticing that his body decayed halfway through and only his conscience made it to the other side.

But nowhere in his wildest dreams did Jaebum ever thought that death would taste like blood and pain.

His entire body ached and there was something on his face – his skin felt like it was burning and there were painful pricks all over his wounded head. Something smelled bad – he couldn’t put a finger on it, but it was a strong smell. He forced his aching limbs to move, flailing slightly to get the painful touches away from his face.

“Stay still,” a voice warned him. His hands were swatted away and the burning sensation on his skin returned.

“Don’t touch me.” He slurred.

The persistent hands refused to listen and continued what it was doing – touching here, pressing there. The smell from whatever substance it was filled his nostrils and he felt dizzy.

“Don’t move too much,” the voice says. He felt the hands gently moving his head onto something soft.

When his sight returned, the first thing he saw was an angel’s face peering down on him. He wondered why the angel was the only thing beautiful in Heaven. The rest of the things looked very much like the alley he was left to die in – moldy walls covered with tasteless graffiti, piss stains in the corners and an ugly trashcan propped against one side of the wall.

“How are you feeling?” The angel asked him softly. “I’m glad the cops arrive quickly… I can’t imagine what would happen to you if they didn’t leave.”

Jaebum frowned, trying to process the information with his still hazy mind. “Wait… so I – I didn’t die? You’re not an angel?”

The ‘angel’ chuckled – and now Jaebum could see that it wasn’t an angel. He was a young male, perhaps only slightly younger than Jaebum himself, though his face was radiant and tranquil, much like the angels depicted in books and paintings.

“I’m not.” He smiled warmly. “I’m a human, just like you.”

Jaebum finally felt conscious enough to assess his situation. He was still lying in the same alley where the thugs left him – the difference is that his head was now cushioned on the younger male’s lap. He saw a half-empty bottle of mineral water, a small bottle of antiseptic and a wad of gauze peeking from a plastic bag with drugstore logo stamped on it.

“I treated your wounds as well as I can but you might want to see a doctor. After all, you suffered lots of good hits.”

The younger male’s voice brought Jaebum back to the world and he blinked up at the smiling face. This guy saw him getting beaten, called the cops, and probably ran to the nearest drugstore to help him. He could’ve abandoned him easily, like how others always did – but this young man didn’t.

“Thank… you.” Jaebum murmured. He tried to sit up, but the younger male stopped him firmly. “Don’t get up just yet, you just got hit in the head. I heard it’s better for you to lie down a little bit without moving. I don’t have to be somewhere anytime soon, so I’ll stay here with you.”

“Okay.” Jaebum didn’t resist. He gently laid his head back on the younger male’s lap, staring up at the satisfied smile.

“I’m Jinyoung.” The angelic young male introduced himself, and Jaebum thought he might go blind from the dazzling smile. “What’s your name? Also, I heard that you need to talk to someone after they had a concussion to ensure that they’re alert so talk to me about whatever you like…”

“… My name is Jaebum.”

And that was how Jaebum ended up telling Jinyoung the whole story about himself and his life. He told him about the most important woman in his life, the reason why he was beaten up by drunk thugs in an abandoned alley.

His foster mother.

She was only fifteen years older than him – living alone in a shabby flat beside Jaebum’s family when he was a mere kid. They became acquainted, like a family, and she ended up taking him under her wings after his parents died in a double suicide. She didn’t have any obligation to take him in – she could’ve abandoned him easily when he was crying in the streets as his parents’ body was taken away. But she didn’t. She took care of him, always ensuring that he had clothes on his body and food on the table every single day – even if she had to sell her dignity.

And now the loving mother was gone.

“I told her to stop doing her job, now that I’m old enough to earn for both of us. But she didn’t listen… she insisted that she was okay. She always did. A couple weeks ago, as she was coming home after a night of work…”

Jaebum closed his eyes as he remembered the images of his mother’s slashed up corpse stuffed in a trashbag. Jinyoung put a hand over his mouth to stop him from talking, knowing full well that a painful memory was overtaking the slightly older male.

“She was a noble lady,” he said soothingly. “No matter what people might say about a person like her… she proved herself to be an honorable person. She took a good care of you and wherever she is right now, I’m sure she’s happy.”

“Yeah.” Jaebum blinked, trying to force his tears back. “The only thing that makes me happy about her death is that she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore…”

Jinyoung’s gentle fingers run through Jaebum’s blood-matted hair and it felt comforting. “What about you?” He asked after a short period of silence.

Jinyoung smiled again, this time a little sadder. “I was afraid that you would ask. People usually look at me with disgust after they find out what I am… but I believe you won’t. I – well… I do the same job as your late mother. It’s just that I’m a little luckier… or maybe less lucky. The madame in the brothel I’m kept at treats me nicely. Maybe because I make more money in one night compared with the others? The guys who wanted me are always the weirdest and richest ones.” He grinned, but the sadness in his eyes gave it away.

“Oh.” Jaebum looked away awkwardly. “I’m sorry I asked, I…”

“That’s alright.” Jinyoung cut him off. “I’m no longer sad about it. Well, not as sad as I used to be when I was younger, at least. As long as it can bring me closer to my parents, I’ll do it.”

Jaebum learned that unlike him, Jinyoung used to have a happy family. His parents weren’t rich, but they cared about him and they lived together happily. But when Jinyoung was twelve, his parents left to work in a faraway town and he was taken away by Madame Takano – the owner of the brothel.

Jaebum wanted to say that Jinyoung was probably abandoned – but he held back. He could see how hopeful Jinyoung was, to be able to meet his parents again, and he didn’t have the heart to ruin the childlike innocence.

“I’m feeling better now. I should go.” Jaebum sat up slowly. The pounding in his head was almost completely gone and the bruises all over his body didn’t hurt as much. “Thank you so much for taking care of me. If you weren’t here, I’d probably be dead by now.”

“That’s too much.” Jinyoung giggled – yes, giggled. “You’d be alive, but perhaps hurt and suffering.”

“That doesn’t sound better.” Jaebum winced. “Anyway – where are you going now? Do you need me to escort you, in case anyone tries to attack?”

“You’re the one who needs protection, not me.” Jinyoung dismissed him with a wave. “Don’t worry about me. The jerks around here knew that I’m their bosses’ favorite in the brothel. They wouldn’t harm me.”

Jinyoung said it so lightly, like it was a common thing. Jaebum admired his strength. The pair parted right outside the alley; but not before promising that they would see each other again.

And they did meet each other again after that. Many times. Sometimes Jaebum would sit around outside Takano Mansion in wee hours in the morning, waiting for Jinyoung to finish the job for the night. Other times, it was Jinyoung who would sit outside the auto repair shop, waiting for Jaebum’s shift to be over. He would laugh at the oil and soot smudged all over Jaebum’s face – but it never seemed to bother him much as he reached out to pull the older male into a kiss. They spent much of their waking hours in each other’s company, finally finding someone to cling onto after feeling alone for so long.

“Is this okay?” Jinyoung accidentally wondered out loud as he lay in Jaebum’s darkened apartment, curling comfortably in Jaebum’s embrace with the sheets covering their bare bodies.

“What?”Jaebum asked sleepily, fingers carding through the younger male’s hair as if he was petting a cat.

“This. All of this. Happiness… safety… I feel like this is all too good to be true. Do I deserve to feel so loved? Do I deserve to be this happy?”

“Jinyoung-ah, you deserve all this and much more.” Jaebum shifted to his side, planting a soft kiss on Jinyoung’s forehead. “You _have_ to be happy, even happier than now.”

“I wonder if my parents are also happy.” Jinyoung thought to himself, again, and Jaebum smiled at the question. No matter what the situation was, even if he was naked and messy after sex, there was a certain innocence Jinyoung always displayed whenever he talked about his parents. He always seemed to revert into his younger self, a hopeful child whose candle was kept alight by the hope of meeting his parents again one day.

It was the same candlelight that grew and enveloped Takano Mansion in a blazing inferno.

The night sky was glowing from the flames and Jaebum saw it from afar as he was walking home from a late night shift. The air was hot and dry – but he felt chills creeping down his spine as he raced towards the source of the light. People were crowding around, bathed in shades of orange and red as they all stood astounded; watching the flames licking up the darkened sky. The heat was killing and jets of water from the fire department’s large hoses evaporated into swirls of steam above the burning mansion. The walls were charred and Jaebum was pretty sure that the sickening crack he heard came from a collapsed ceiling somewhere inside the building. Firemen were running around like crazy, trying to find more water source while forcing the crowd to move backwards, away from the building.

Jaebum had no idea how many hours had passed since he arrived there – people came, watched for a few minutes, and left – but he stayed there glued to the asphalt. He stared blankly at the raging fire, witnessing the building crumble bit by bit. Concrete crashed to the ground and windows shattered in a sharp blow. He only moved from his spot when a fireman grabbed him by his shoulders and brought him to the side, forcefully pushing him to sit down.

“Young man,” the fireman’s voice was gentle but stern, “you shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous. The fire is hot enough to reduce a person into ashes.”

“I can’t leave him here.” Jaebum answered unconsciously. He didn’t even hear his own voice. His eyes were fixated on the uppermost room in the building – the room Jinyoung resided in. The fireman’s gaze was sympathetic as he forced Jaebum to look at him, away from the burning building. “Son, listen to me.”

The man explained it to him, as gently as he could, but the blow from the words hurt nonetheless. He told Jaebum that the flame in the building was difficult to control. Owing to the nature of the mansion, which was equipped with soundproof materials in each room, the flame spread quickly no matter where it was from or how small it might be at first. Moreover, because the rooms were all private and well hidden, residents were most likely unaware of the fire until the whole building was on fire and impossible to escape from.

“I would advise you to go home for now… if you want to, we can call you once we’re finished with the identification…”

Jaebum didn’t respond. He vaguely felt the fireman squeezing his shoulder in support – but he was already too numb to feel anything. The smoke spiraling out from the windows were black and so was his heart. The flame from Jinyoung’s candle burnt him down and when the flame died, he died with it.

The cruel truth presented itself to him the following day – coming in the form of a plain envelope stuffed together with bills and advertisements into his mailbox. He planned to ignore it, like how he ignored everything else, but the plainness of the white envelope drew him in. The postage displayed yesterday’s date – the same day of the fire.

Jaebum’s charred heart crumbled as he read the handwritten name.

_To Im Jaebum_

He read the letter under the streetlight, hoping that the dim yellowish glow from above would provide some warmth – just like how Jinyoung’s radiant face did. It didn’t even come close. The noises from the city began to die down and Jaebum sat there alone, reading through strings of heartfelt apologies, confessions, and messages from Jinyoung. It was warming – how Jinyoung remembered bits of trivial things about him – but it also stung a lot that such memories would be no more.

And on the third page, everything Jaebum had ever believed in fell into pieces.

Jinyoung wrote how despite the entire ordeal he had to go through, he stayed strong because he truly believed that his parents would come to pick him up. And he would introduce them to Jaebum – and they would all live happily ever after. But he never expected to discover the truth in the most brutal, unexpected way.

He was returning to his room after escorting his client out when he happened to pass Madame Takano’s room and see her talking with someone. Good business, it seemed, because Madame Takano was laughing.

But he heard a familiar voice and he was glued to the floor.

It was a voice from the past – two voices – that he couldn’t put a finger on but he knew that he recognized the voices from somewhere. That those voices used to be an integral part of his life. He didn’t want to stay there, didn’t want to hear whatever Madame Takano was talking about with the mysterious guests – but his feet refused to move, forcing him to stay and accept the truth.

He was never abandoned or forcefully separated from his parents.

He was sold.

His parents gave him to Madame Takano to let him work as a prostitute – and in turn, they would receive a large sum of his hard-earned cash each month.

The three were laughing inside Madame Takano’s office – celebrating an easy business – and he no longer heard voices of people he knew. He heard the devil and his mistresses laughing at his miserable life. The foundation of his beliefs collapsed underneath his feet and he found himself hovering in an abyss, losing the thread he was hanging on.

And Jaebum knew what happened next – Jinyoung somehow managed to get his hands on a huge amount of gasoline and soaked his entire bedroom with it before setting his bed on fire, choosing to face death while embracing his sins.

The streetlight flickered for a moment before dying and Jaebum wept underneath. Jinyoung’s letter ended with an apology and a sincere wish that Jaebum would find happiness no matter where he chose to go. Jinyoung didn’t know that the word happiness escaped Jaebum’s dictionary the moment he realized that Takano Mansion was burning with its entire residents trapped in it.

Jaebum staggered on his feet, clutching the letters in his hand. He felt lightheaded, intoxicated with pure, unabashed pain and disappointment. Had he done a better job in protecting Jinyoung’s heart, the younger wouldn’t have to give up on life. Had he let Jinyoung know that he would be there for him no matter what, Jinyoung might have gone to him to cry his heart out and feel better the next day. Had he loved Jinyoung more when he was alive, the younger wouldn’t have to pass away lonely and in pain. Jinyoung saved him from a miserable death and gave him a reason to live – and yet Jaebum had done nothing in return.

He walked past what remained of Takano Mansion – blackened walls and broken neon sign – and remembered the way Jinyoung’s face would light up whenever he was happy. It swarmed around his field of vision, shielding him from anything else – and it was all he saw when he walked absently towards the traffic.

Jaebum never saw the lights from the vehicle, nor did he hear the screeching tires and blaring horn, but he did feel the impact when the truck stopped one second too late and swerved to the side. Jinyoung’s face in his mind was suddenly bathed in bright white light – a little too bright, a little too intense. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the lights to dim.

It never did.

Instead, there were swirls and streams of neon light swimming around in his vision. The streams of light grew brighter and dimmer in rapid succession – it hurt. It hurt too much and Jaebum just wanted it to stop.

It felt like years – waiting for everything to stop, and Jaebum writhed in agony for God knows how long. Something – or someone – tapped on his shoulder, and in a split second, he was shrouded in gentle warmth. There were no more bright lights, no more neon streams, and the pain in his head faded away in slow motion.

When Jaebum opened his eyes, he needed a couple seconds to assess his surroundings.

It was a familiar alley – with the mold-covered walls and tasteless graffiti scattered around here and there. He could spot a puddle of questionable-looking liquid nearby and the collapsing metal trashcan had a bit of bloodstain near the edge. He heard some drunkards chanting and singing in the distance –

– and Jinyoung was there, gently cradling his head.

“Are you feeling better, hyung?” He asked in a soft voice. “We need to go.”

It was all hazy inside Jaebum’s mind and he had questions swirling around him – like why was he there asleep and lots of other missing pieces. He pushed it to the back of his mind, though – questions would have to wait. Not now, not when Jinyoung was smiling at him, gently holding him.

“Where are we going?” Jaebum asked, slowly attempting to stand up. His body felt like lead but he forced himself to move, hand clasped tightly with Jinyoung’s.

“My home.” Jinyoung smiled brightly as he described the place. “My mom already cooked a delicious meal for us. Your mother is also there, hyung. They’re all waiting for us.”

“Oh, great.” Jaebum couldn’t help but to mimic the younger male’s smile. There was a persistent question trying to punch its way out from the back of his mind but Jaebum ignored it. He brought Jinyoung’s hand up to his lips, kissing the fingertips lightly. “I miss you, Nyoung.”

“I missed you too.” Jinyoung blushed, gripping his hand tighter. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon but well… you’re here now.”

“Yeah, I’m here now.” Jaebum smiled, questions evaporating from his thoughts. “And I’m here to stay.”

 

* * *

 

_~~answer: bts - i need u (sugakookie storyline). the name of the mansion was taken from the neon sign outside suga's room~~ _

 

_~~I had a pretty rough week. help~~ _


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